


(Your) Sword and (Your) Shield

by gyromitra



Series: And no one realized [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Female!Jack, Genderbending, It really isn't my usual kind of shit, Tasteless Jokes, Unresolved Sexual Tension, how do I English, mchanzo if you squint very much, only two more left now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8584474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyromitra/pseuds/gyromitra
Summary: Sarcastic summary: They are really trying to get on with their dysfunctional sex life, but there is always something, or someone. Reaper tries to scare the kiddies and public sex chatter gets overheard.





	

For the first week 76 recuperates, and Mercy is there several times a day, bringing food and checking on her wounds. Reaper leaves then, spends time familiarizing himself again with all nooks and crannies of Gibraltar base. They lack the resources to bring most of it online, and he almost shakes his head. That is a serious liability he utilized not just once before.

On one of such trips he lets McCree accost him, sound of a gun cocking raising his brow.

“See, I found meself a scurrying rat.”

“76 is my employer now. I promised to behave, but if you force my hand, so be it.”

“What he paying you with, like, handjobs? Or is he Bruce Wayne?”

Reaper actually snorts and then looms over him.

“Covert expenses Blackwatch account access data.” It’s somewhat a truth.

“How would he even…”

“Ask yourself.” He dissipates, leaving the pest alone.

 

***

 

Come second week, Reaper returns from one of his trips to find 76’s door unlocked and her room empty. It piques his curiosity, even if she is predictable enough that he knows where she will be right now. True to his word, he finds her in the gym, going through a training routine.

“You shouldn’t be up yet.”

“I need to stretch.”

“Stretch your stitches, you mean, mi mariposa?” He moves away from the doorway, towards the mat and curls his talons, urging her on. 76 rolls her shoulders and throws the first punch, no warning given, fast and vicious. It catches him by surprise, but not enough.

And even if, that facet of her is endearing.

But 76 favors her left side, is slower, in pain so perfectly visible in the way her naked feet move on the fabric. It is not hard to overpower her now, even if it still takes time to carefully wear her down, to the point where they tussle with an animalistic intensity, and when he finally pins her down her legs lock on his waist. She moves her hips, a needy kind of motion…

“Oi, lads, you know this is, uh, like communal gym…?”

76 goes slack under him, her synthesizer gives the whine he knows is a growl, and then there it is: “Fuck.” Delivered in the flat and devoid of emotion tone that makes Reaper break into hysterical almost laughter and collapse on her.

She kicks him off, scrambles to her feet and storms out. Her doors are closed when he returns.

 

***

 

“No, I mean, how is that even possible? Look, they are really tearing into each other. You don’t try to kill someone that much and then just fuck them!”

“I agree, that definitely hurt. But that,” Reaper chuckles at the screen playing aerial footage of one of their trysts, putting his clawed hand on cowboy’s head (hearing him almost shriek is an added bonus), behind their backs, deigning to provide a commentary, “that was five broken ribs, fractured sternum and half a minute of cardiac arrest. That one, to be honest, mostly hurt my pride, seeing as even with a stopped heart 76 managed to club me and then shoot me point blank. Still, got the shoulder.”

They are all on edge now.

“Ya… It kind of, proves the point?” Jesse asks tentatively.

“Spent half the night digging them out with those.” Reaper flexes his fingers on pest’s scalp to illustrate the point. “And then we fucked.”

Hana groans.

“I didn’t want this image, period!”

 

***

 

By the third week, they work well together. Move more like a singular person then two separate entities, their whole surroundings covered. They don’t touch, don’t see each other, and yet, they seem to know where the other is at any given moment in time. A perfect mix of viciousness, violence and brutality, their little dance of reckless abandon in the destruction and the bloodshed in the smell of ozone and gunpowder ( _just like old times_ ), and each shot marks the target.

They tear down through Talon foot soldiers while the rest of the team secures and escorts the general.

Their comms flare up with a warning, and 76 inclines her head to the side.

“Feeling adventurous?” He knows that under that mask there is a wide feral smile, all teeth and no gentleness, drunk with the chemical cocktail of almost artificial hormones, pupils switching easily between blown and pinpricks. And he can’t help but feel the same ( _just like old times_ ), so he snatches her wrist, and takes her with himself all the way. 76 glances up at the mech, not fazed in the slightest by the mode of their transportation, and rolls her shoulders. “An older model.”

Beaten, bloodied, bruised, yet victorious, they emerge.

Among the smoking wreckage, 76 pushes him to the ground, his claws tear into her hips hard as she struggles with his buckles.

“ I… we need… the army is…” Mercy is actually covering her eyes as if something scandalous is taking place, even if nothing has happened yet, and it’s his turn.

“Fuck.” Reaper growls, putting all the frustration behind this one word.

Later that night her doors are closed and he stands for a minute with his hand half-raised. Then he thinks better of it.

 

***

 

“Hey, old gay guy, your hair is getting long,” Hana pokes 76’s shoulder as she pours her coffee.

“It’s not as big liability now as it was before.”

“But you have split ends,” Korean smiles and jumps up excitedly. “I’ll trim them and I have some extra conditioner!”

76 startles. And then admits. “That would be nice.”

Hana runs to check the corridor, and then rounds back.

“So, what’s the deal with the goth gay dude?”

“It’s… complicated.”

The girl rolls her eyes, hard.

“Probably not as complicated as the dragon dude trying to get into brokeback mountain’s pants and failing miserably for months now.”

“A train wreck waiting to happen.”

“I’m not going to get you out of your mask?” Hana sighs.

“Nope. It’s the mask what’s important, not what lies beneath it.”

 

***

 

It takes another two weeks, a few close incidents, and a barbecue for Lucio. 76 and Reaper sit away from each other, but with the time passing they start to sign. Lucio catches a few movements, but doesn’t pay attention, not until Winston looks positively uncomfortable, Angela is red in the face – tries very hard not to look at them – and Hana holds her phone up, translation appearing as their hands flutter through the air.

“I didn’t know you could do that shit real life, straight out of hentai!” She whistles quietly.

And Lucio now concentrates, and panics.

“Guys. Guys! We can understand you!”

There it is, a shocked silence as he is the one that finally said that, at least until Reaper suddenly laughs and 76 hurls a platter at him.

But the following night Lucio can’t sleep and wanders the watchpoint’s halls, a ghost of music leading him to the firing range. Now, he feels like he is the one intruding.

They dance, a slow swaying shift, hardly any motion at all, not a breadth of space between them, lost in their own world, a moment painfully private and intimate.

Lucio backs off silently, a light smile tugging at his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> If you survived - non-English speaker, criticism welcome. Oh yeah, and the point is to play with the dynamic. And there was some prompt I don't remember about Sign that I might have put in there.


End file.
